I find the small pocket sized sketchbook is great for quick informal sketches at moments like waiting for the food to come at dinner. To my right there was a large table full of guys that seemed to be together on a business trip. It was a jovial scene with everyone sharing photos on their cell phones.
Of course in WWII no Infantry soldier was allowed to shoot photos or write anything about where they had been or where they were going. ‘Loose lops sink ships” was the propaganda slogan to encourage troops to keep their lips sealed. My father 1st Lieutenant Arthur Thorspecken never wrote or said anything about the war. He kept his lips leaked up until his dying day. As a child I thought I heard him say one that a bullet had hit a tank right next to his leg once. His C-Company platoon was assigned to work with the 8th Armored Division when the 75th Infantry Division pushed into Germany. So the tank aspect of my vague memory holds up.
Two other 1st Lieuenants from the 75th Infantry did write about their experiences in the war, and I am using their writings as a way to get a sense of what a 1st Lieutenant would have gone through in WWII.
The scene I sketched in the hotel restaurant probably isn’t much different that a scene in an infantry mess hall except for the fact that there was a woman in the room at the far table. Belgium was liberated by February of 1945 when Arthur Thorspecken might have been in the city ready to join the 75th Infantry as they moved up to the Netherlands.
After this dinner, I went up to my room and discovered that my travel credit card was missing. I tore apart my luggage and could not find it anywhere. Then I remembered getting gas on the drive to Charleroi Belgium. The gas pump just wouldn’t work with my card. I got frustrated and finally went inside to pay in Euros. I must have left the card in the machine in my frustration. In the morning I decided to make the drive back to the gas station. It was a long shot, but I had to try. I pulled into the gas station and pulled up to the same gas pump. Of course the card was not in the machine. I went inside the store with a vague hope that some good Samaritan had turned the card in to the attendant. I don’t know how to speak Flemish, but with some German, English and some hand gestures I explained that I had lost my grey card. The color gray caused the attendants eyes to light up. He went in the back room and came out with the card. For once Lucy was on my side. I had a brief retreat but pressed forward to the next city. Now if I use the card in a machine, I keep a finger on it at all times.